


Demon Deals and Prayers to Angels

by MaggieMaybe160



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Castiel Loves Peanut Butter and Jelly (Supernatural), Castiel's Tan Trenchcoat (Supernatural), Crossroads Deals & Demons, Crying Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fanart, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Art, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Prayer, Praying Dean Winchester, Time Travel, Tragedy, profound bond birthday bash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22210345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieMaybe160/pseuds/MaggieMaybe160
Summary: Dean makes a deal with a demon so he can go back in time and change the future.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 21
Kudos: 77





	Demon Deals and Prayers to Angels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cryptomoon art (cryptomoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptomoon/gifts).



> I made this based on artwork by [cryptomoon](https://cryptomoon.tumblr.com/)  
> Check out the original post on on her tumblr. [Click here for original artwork](https://cryptomoon.tumblr.com/post/156424408972/i-am-only-capable-of-drawing-melancholy)  
> Thank you so much for letting me use this beautiful artwork, Crypto! I hope you like this fic!
> 
> This is for the Profound Bond Discord Birthday Bash. Huge thank you and congratulations to Crypto for making such an amazing place to hang out.  
> If you're 18+ and love destiel, [come join us!](https://discord.gg/profoundbond)

Dean is standing still. He’s standing still at the crossroads waiting for a demon to show up. He’s been at crossroads many times, but never like this. He’s paced around, cursing and daring the demon to show up. He’s drawn traps and shouted, taunting. He’s never stood completely still. 

“What happened to you?” She’s nobody, a low-level, a pretty face to seal deals. She also looks shocked at Dean’s appearance of blood-soaked clothes and a drawn, tear-stained face. His hand is tight on the angel blade, but he’s not sure he would even bother to use it if the opportunity were to present itself. 

“I’m here to make a deal,” he says. Even to him, his voice sounds flat. He sounds like he’s given up. He has. 

“Oh, no. Down in the dumps, Dean?” she asks with a mocking pout. She heaves a heavy sigh when he doesn’t bite onto the bait and crosses her arms over her chest. “We don’t make deals with Winchesters.”

“One day,” he offers. “I don’t want to live another ten years, so you can shove that where the sun don’t shine, sweetheart. I won’t even take one more year like my first deal. I want twenty-four hours.”

“What?” She didn’t learn about this at demon Sunday school. 

“You send me back, you got it? Send me back. I don’t care what day as long as I’m in Pontiac, Illinois in 2007. When my day is up, send me downstairs. Deal?”

“I’m not supposed to make deals with Winchesters,” she protests. Dean’s hand tightens on his blade. “One day?”

“One day,” he nods once. 

She steps forward and looks up into his face. “Deal,” she whispers, her breath on his lips. He kisses her and feels the world get pulled out from under him like a rug. 

Dean opens his eyes. It’s much like his first time traveling back. He’s on a park bench and the sun is just coming up. He sits up and already he can tell that he’s back to being a twenty-eight year old. His body doesn’t hurt from the years piled on. He checks his watch. It’s seven. 

The world around him seems too bright. He swallows down the thoughts that tell him that his plan won’t work. It has to work. If it doesn’t… It has to work. 

Dean gets up from his bench and starts walking. He recognizes where he is, though he only remembers being here the one time. He doesn’t need a map or to ask for directions. He remembers driving through this town with Jimmy Novak in his backseat, telling him where to turn. 

“425 Westview,” Dean mutters to himself as he picks up his pace. His heart is racing. He can’t do this. He stops dead when he sees the house. It’s been over a decade since he’s seen it. The white pillars, inviting porch, and freshly mowed lawn make him want to turn around. This house is still untouched by tragedy. 

Each step he takes toward that door feels weighted. He might as well be walking in tar. He raises a hand and knocks four times. 

Last time he was here, Cas was gone. He was missing and Dean was left with Jimmy Novak, a scared family man who sold ad space and said grace before dinner. Jimmy Novak, the man who had said yes to an angel. 

The door opens and the numbness that had been protecting Dean’s shattered heart evaporates. A man with dark hair and big blue eyes stands in the doorway. His eyes are different than Cas’ though. They’re blue, but they aren’t the blue of a thousand worlds. They don’t hold the infinite skies or the oceans. They don’t shine with every star in existence. They’re just blue. 

“Can I help you?” His voice isn’t deep. It doesn’t send Dean reeling. His lips aren’t chapped because he probably knows how to use chapstick. His face is cleanly shaven and his dark hair is combed with a side part. 

“I need to talk to you,” Dean says. He doesn’t mean to let his voice crack. 

“Do I know you? I’m sorry, I’m terrible with names.” 

“My name is Dean.” He takes a deep breath and feels his world crashing down around him. “And my husband is dead.” 

Jimmy, never a man to turn away one in need, opens his door wider and steps to the side to let Dean into his home. Their shoulders almost brush and Dean flinches. If Jimmy notices, he doesn’t mention it. He leads Dean to the living room and offers him a seat. 

“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?” 

“I just need to talk to you,” Dean says, shaking his head. He sits down on the couch and rubs his hands into his knees. Jimmy sits down on the same couch and faces Dean, waiting for whatever it is that this broken nearly thirty year old has to say. “You believe in angels and God and everything, right?” Cas had once told him that his vessel was a devout man who had prayed for his possession. 

“Of course,” Jimmy answers with a nod. 

“I didn’t. For a long time, I didn’t. I met him and,” Dean shakes his head, “suddenly angels were real. Heaven and Hell were real. God. God was real. I don’t know how to say this.” 

“Take your time,” Jimmy says. He moves as if to reach out to Dean but stops himself, folding his hands in his lap. His eyes are filled with sympathy and the willingness to listen to whatever it is Dean has to say. 

“Have you heard the name Castiel?” His name in his mouth feels like home. But home doesn’t exist anymore. He wipes at the tears that fall and stares at his hand. The silver ring he’d worn for most of his life is back on his right hand. He’d given it to Cas when he’d married him. 

“No.”

“When you do meet him, don’t listen to him.” Jimmy’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. His head doesn’t tilt to the side like Cas’ does… did. “Don’t let him in and don’t you dare say ‘yes’ because the fires of hell are better than this.” He can’t breathe. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“I know you don’t get it yet. Just promise me you won’t say yes to Castiel.”

“Who is Castiel?” 

Castiel is Cas. Cas is… something else. He’s an angel who rebelled for a human. He’s an angel who dove into Hell to rescue one, stupid human. He’s an angel who outlived his vessel. He’s the angel who walked into Dean Winchester’s life with his backwards tie and shining eyes and stole his heart away. He’s the reason Dean is sitting on this couch right now. 

“I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m not. He means well. He’s an angel following his orders, but his orders were wrong.” 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Jimmy asks again. “Water? Coffee? Have you eaten?”

Dean finds himself shaking his head. He hasn’t eaten. He hasn’t been hungry. He went straight from the battlefield to the crossroad. He hasn’t had anything to eat or drink in at least a day. The idea of food is both a comfort and extremely nauseating. 

“Let’s get you some food,” Jimmy says. “We can keep talking while we have some coffee.” Dean wants to protest, but he gets up and follows Jimmy into the kitchen anyway. The coffee is already ready, just waiting to be poured into the two mugs that Jimmy pulls down from a cabinet. 

“Thanks,” Dean says as he takes the coffee he doesn’t want. 

“What can I make you for breakfast?” Jimmy leans against his counter as he watches Dean. “Eggs? Toast? Bacon?”

Dean doesn’t want food. He doesn’t want to eat anything. He doesn’t even want this coffee. “Peanut butter and jelly is fine,” he hears himself answer instead. Why? 

“Just made one for my daughter this morning,” Jimmy smiles as he goes to the fridge. “We only have grape jelly left, is that okay?” 

Dean nods mutely. Two sandwiches are made and Dean is brought to the dining room. Why the fuck did he say he wanted this sandwich? He could have gone for his favorite, bacon and eggs. He could have stuck to what he actually wanted and said, “nothing, thanks.” He could have, but he didn’t. He picks up Cas’ favorite meal takes a bite. 

“What’s wrong? Is it that bad?” Jimmy asks, genuinely concerned despite the joke tacked on at the end. Dean hadn’t noticed he was crying. He puts the sandwich with one bite taken out of it down and clears his throat. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Dean says calmly and completely honestly. He gets up and follows the direction that Jimmy points in for the bathroom. He closes the door and presses his back up against it, breathing through his nose as he clenches his jaw. He doesn’t have anything but a single sip of black coffee and one bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his system. He loses the battle, falling to his knees and emptying his stomach into the toilet. 

Dean’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He spits into the bowl and looks at his phone screen. Sammy. His baby brother. The 2007 version who hasn’t been to Hell or met Lucifer. The Sam who hasn’t gotten addicted to demon blood yet or met an angel. The Sam who hasn’t yet saved the world. 

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean answers, trying to make himself sound like he isn’t on the floor of a stranger’s bathroom. 

“Dean! Where are you?” His voice is so high. Did he not hit puberty yet? He sounds so young. 

“Oh, you know…” Dean closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. This is probably the last time he’s going to talk to his brother. 

“He’s alive,” Sam says, his voice farther away. “Bobby says he’s going to kill you.” Dean smiles and feels his nose burn. He has to hold himself together. This is already the hardest day of his life, he doesn’t need more tears. “Really, Dean. Where are you?”

“The bathroom floor of a stranger’s house,” Dean says, forcing a smirk into his voice. He can practically hear Sam’s eyes roll. 

“I know you’re intent on dying now that you have a year to live, but you’re not invincible, Dean. We can figure out a way around the deal.” 

The deal. The first deal. Not the deal he’s currently living out. “No. Look, I’m great. You’ll see me tomorrow.” He swallows hard. Sam will get to see his brother, but Dean won’t. His throat is still raw. He makes a face at the taste in his mouth and stands up. 

“Dean, just come back and we can figure this out like we always do.” 

“I’d love to, Sammy, but there’s something I gotta do.” He turns on the sink and rinses out his mouth. “You need to rest anyway. Watch some tv. Eat junk and help Bobby clean out his liquor cabinet. Enjoy being in your twenties.” 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” His voice says it all. He feels alone. 

“No,” Dean says adamantly. “I told you. You’ll see me tomorrow. We can’t go looking for a way to save me, but I’ll be there. We can… I don’t know. We can go to Disneyland and eat ice cream until we puke.” 

No matter how many times they told each other they would go to Disneyland, it never happened. There was always something. A devil’s gate had opened. Mysterious deaths. Lucifer was free. Lucifer wouldn’t be freed this time. Not if Dean’s plan worked. Dean was the first key to Lucifer’s cage, but not this time. 

“Yeah, alright. Dean?”

“Mm?

“Bobby’s second in line to killing you when you get back here.” Sam’s smiling again. 

“I’d like to see you fucking try.” He wants to hug his brother. He wants to tell him he loves him because it’s his last chance. He wants to tell him about everything, just to save him some pain. He can’t though. “Bye, Sammy,” he says instead of anything else. 

“Bye.” The line goes dead and Dean hangs his head, sighing. He looks back up and finds himself staring into the mirror. God, he looks young. He’s not even thirty yet. He splashes water on his face to wash away the tears and hopefully prevent more from coming. He flushes the toilet and leaves the safety of the bathroom.

“Sorry about that,” Dean says, sneaking a glance at his watch. It’s nine. How did it become nine? He did have to walk here from town. He’d forgotten to check his watch when he’d arrived. That’s only two hours though. He has plenty of time. 

“Are you alright?” Jimmy asks. The sandwiches are gone and Dean’s coffee has been replaced by water. Unless that glass is filled with vodka, which he highly doubts. 

“Yeah. It’s just been a rough coupla days,” he says, taking a sip. It is water. 

“Did he die recently then?” Jimmy asks. It’s a knife in Dean’s gut. He swallows hard and realizes he’s staring at the floor. He can’t look up. He can’t look up and see the face that Cas wore so well. That combed dark hair that had been wild, sticking in every direction. Those big blue eyes that seared into his soul. He made a mistake in coming here. He can’t be in this fucking house with this man. He has to be. He has to be here with him to make sure it doesn’t happen again. To make sure Cas doesn’t save him from Hell. 

Dean opens his mouth to answer but no words come. He takes another sip of water but drinks the entire glass down. “Fuck,” is the only word that escapes him. 

“It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m sure he was a good man. You should sit down, you look pale.” Jimmy takes the empty glass from Dean’s hand. 

“Where do people go to pray?” Dean asks. 

“I can take you to my church if you like,” Jimmy says gently. “They’re very accepting and not a lot of people should be there right now.” Dean nods and follows Jimmy toward the door. He sees him reach for a familiar tan trench coat and Dean isn’t sure how to describe the noise that comes out of his throat. 

“No!” comes out in a strangled and strange noise. Dean immediately bites down on his lip and shuts his eyes tight. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes to walk out the door without looking at that coat. The same coat that he’d kept in the trunk of his car when he’d thought Cas had died the first time. When it was all he had of him. It reeked and was stained with blood and leviathan fluids, but Dean had kept it safe. Just in case. 

He stops walking when his feet hit the ground after the bottom step. He reminds himself to breathe as he waits for Jimmy. He hopes he doesn’t come out wearing that coat. Anything but that coat. 

“Ready, Dean?” Jimmy’s voice asks. Dean looks over and sees he’s chosen a different coat that’s dark brown and stops at his hips. He nods and walks with Jimmy toward the car. He’s not used to any seat that isn’t behind the wheel, but for once he’s grateful. He presses his face against the cold window as he watches the houses slip past them. 

“I’m sorry I asked. I know it’s personal and it has to be painful. I’ve never lost someone like that, but I’m sure if I lost Amelia I’d be a wreck too,” Jimmy says. Dean knows better. Jimmy is braver than he knows. In the face of losing his entire family, he’d chosen to save them and let Cas take him. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m grateful that you’ve come to me and that I’m able to provide some comfort, even if it is only taking you to my church for prayer.” 

“Thank you,” Dean says quietly, his breath fogging up the glass. 

The rest of the drive is quiet save for Dean’s phone buzzing with texts from Sam. Dean ignores them and eventually turns his brick of a phone on silent. Jimmy parks in a practically abandoned lot of a church and looks over at Dean after taking the keys out of the ignition. 

“Do you want to go in alone or would you allow my company?” Jimmy asks. Why would he want to come with? He doesn’t even know Dean. He let a grieving stranger into his home. He fed said stranger and took the massive insult that was Dean throwing up the one bite of food he’d managed to eat. Then he drove him to a church to pray and asks to go with him? On top of all of that, he just goes along with Dean telling him that he’s going to meet an angel and he has to say no to being possessed. That sounds normal. Who the fuck is this guy, Cas? 

“Sure,” Dean says as he gets out. They walk into the church together and Dean looks around at the empty pews. There’s one other person there, but she has her head bowed and her eyes closed. She’s busy. Dean takes a seat at the opposite end of the church from her.   
  
He sits with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped, thumbs providing a rest for his chin. He presses his lips into his fingers and stares ahead at the candle-lit altar. He doesn’t know how to start this. He doesn’t know how to pray to a Cas that doesn’t know him. 

_(Original Artwork by Cryptomoon at<https://cryptomoon.tumblr.com/post/156424408972/i-am-only-capable-of-drawing-melancholy>)_

“Castiel,” Dean prays silently, his eyes sliding shut. “I don’t know if you know of me yet. I’m Dean Winchester. I… I know that you have orders. Orders to pluck me from Hell and start opening the seals on Lucifer’s cage. I’m begging you not to. I can’t go through this. I can’t lose you again. If this works, you’ll live. You’ll be saved from ever meeting me. 

“I don’t know what I’m fucking doing. I’m praying to my dead husband and asking him to never meet me. I don’t know when you fell in love with me, Cas, but I fell fast and I fell hard. I have never and will never love anyone as much as I love you. We rebelled against Heaven together. We fought side by side. For years we fought together. I would say that I would do it all again, but I can’t lose you like that. It’s tearing me apart.

“I’m not someone who ever thought I would fall in love. I was told my whole life that I was nothing but a soldier. I know you were too. You rebelled against Heaven, Cas. For me. I know you chose me over Heaven when given the choice. Hell, you chose me over Heaven when you weren’t given the choice. I would do that again. If I could, I would fall in love with you every single day. But not if it ends with you dying in my arms again. 

“I lost you when you walked into the water supply with a belly full of leviathan. I lost you when you took Sam’s delusions and lost your mind. I lost you when you abandoned me in Purgatory to protect me. When a reaper killed you and I was too late. When Lucifer stabbed you and you fell at my feet. I handled all of it when I didn’t think I could. But each time got harder. And then you actually died. You were ripped apart and you held onto me. You couldn’t heal yourself. No one could. So I held you and I didn’t cry. I didn’t want your last moment to be watching your husband cry. So I kissed you and I promised you that I would see you again. I stroked your cheek and I held your hand over my heart and I told you about what it felt like to fall in love with you.

“I may be a righteous man who spills blood in Hell or whatever the fuck the first seal was, but it can’t be me and it can’t be you. Do you understand me? You have to stay there and let me burn in Hell. I can take it, Cas. Even if I do give in, like we both know I will, you can’t come save me. Do you hear me, Cas?” 

“Dean?” Jimmy whispers, his hand on Dean’s back. “Are you alright?” 

Dean is sobbing into his hands. He feels hopeless, empty. He thought that telling Cas not to rescue him from Hell would give him some peace, but there’s a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. If this works, Cas may not die in his arms, but he will never meet him. The glass of a gas station won’t explode. There will never be a _“Hello, Dean.”_ There will be nothing. 

“Promise me you won’t let Castiel in,” Dean chokes. He’s not sure this is what he wants anymore. He wants to run away with Cas. He wants to hold hands and drive off the cliff together. He reminds himself that he only has mere hours left before he’s downstairs for good. This is for the best. For everyone. “Promise me.”

“I promise I won’t let anyone named Castiel in,” Jimmy says firmly. 

The air feels thin and Dean can’t breathe. He needs to get out of here. He has nowhere to go. He forces himself to stand and avoids looking at Jimmy as he makes his way out of the pews and into the aisle. “Cas,” he thinks, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, angel.” As he walks, the world starts tilting. He checks his watch. He should be good for another twenty-ish hours. He’s either being brought back to his time or he’s fainting. It better not be either. 

Dean hits the floor with a thud and the world goes dark around him. 

When he opens his eyes, there is no church around him. His face is pressed against the dirt and the sky is dark. He pushes himself up, ready to stab the demon that dragged him back to this hellscape before his day was up. 

“It’s cute that you thought you could change the future with a little prayer,” the demon says. Dean snarls as he stands, his husband's angel blade dropping from his sleeve into his hand. “I’m good, aren’t I? Oh, yes, I am _good_!” 

“What’re you talking about?” Dean asks, the blade to her throat. She looks at ease as she smiles at him. 

“You bought into that whole, I’m not supposed to make deals with Winchesters bit.” She’s practically laughing. “How do you think this entire story started? You think Jimmy just heard a voice one day and believed in angels enough to not take the meds they were shoving at him? Fuck no. He met some guy who told him angels were real and that Castiel would come a-knockin’.”

“What?” Dean feels the blood drain from his body. 

“I am sorry I couldn’t give you the whole day to spiral out of control,” she says with an exaggerated frown. “I’ve got orders.” She smirks and takes a step backward. “Any questions before the dogs come?” 

“It was always going to end like this?” Dean asks, voice rough. 

“Yep! Get em, girls!” She grins and Dean falls. 

“Dean, what have you done?” His voice is shaking and Dean looks up. Cas is crouching beside him, his eyebrows drawn together, his dark hair wild and blowing gently with the wind. His blue eyes are intense and filled with the night sky and worry. 

“Cas,” Dean breathes. “Cas!” He throws his arms around him, kissing everywhere he can reach. His cheeks, nose, chin, lips, forehead, jaw, neck. His fingers curl into the thick dark hair as he pulls Cas against him. 

“What have you done?” Cas whispers, his arms tight around Dean. 

“How are you here? I told you not to save me. This… None of this should be here.” Dean would gesture around, but he refuses to let go. He refuses to stop his kisses or break this embrace. He can feel his heart beating again. He can breathe again. 

“Did you think I would listen? Do you think I would leave you in Hell and give up all that you promised? I remember that prayer.” Cas pulls away enough to cup Dean’s face in his hands and look into his eyes. Their foreheads rest together and Cas whispers, “Dean, what did you do?” 

“I’m not there, am I?” Dean asks with a humorless smile, one that tugs upward and then down as tears threaten to spill. “I’m in Hell.” 

“I love you,” Cas says urgently. 

“I love you,” Dean answers, “but you’re not real.” 

Cas dissipates as Dean’s limbs are pulled in opposite directions. He bites down hard, refusing to scream. He told Cas he could take it and he can. Cas is asleep in the empty, Jack nearby and tucked in. Sam is hopefully in Heaven. Maybe he’s even sitting down with Jessica. Dean is swallowing his screams until they’re ripped from him. He prayed for this. 

It doesn’t matter how many times he’s torn apart, his skin shredded, his muscles ripped. He always dreams of one thing. One thing he didn’t have the first time he was here. He dreams of Cas.


End file.
